by Wendy Vella
“You know the Sinclair family?” Max said calmly, very aware that Edward’s eyes were on him.
“I do. Wonderful people. That Miss Sinclair healed my gout.”
Essie again, Max thought. She was popping up in his life with more frequency than was entirely comfortable.
“Do you have reason to believe someone would like you dead, Mr. Huntington? An enemy, perhaps?” Mr. Spriggot regained control of the conversation.
Max snorted. “I have certainly annoyed a great many people, and yes, I have enemies, but to find one who would shoot me in such a cowardly manner is another matter.”
If you could make a list of those you believe are your enemies, then I would appreciate it, Mr. Huntington.”
“Captain Rutley.”
Max tried not to tense as Edward spoke.
“He is dead.”
“You have no proof of that, Max.”
Captain Rutley had been a cruel, evil man who Max and Edward had been cabin boys for. Max had sought revenge the only way he knew how, by killing him. At least, that was what he’d always believed.
“Captain Rutley?” Mr. Spriggot’s expression was calm as he scratched the name on his paper.
“I shot him, and he fell into the sea.” Max kept his words cold and emotionless. Inside, however, he was a seething, shaking mass, as he always was when the man’s name was mentioned. Not many could reduce him to the boy he had once been, but the mention of that man could.
“I shall still add him to the list of people I need to check, if that is all right with you, Mr. Huntington?”
Max nodded, and then swallowed to ease the tension in his throat.
“This matter is to be kept secret. I want no one aware of what you are doing, only that the culprit is unearthed. Employ as many people as you need to get me a result. Money is of no concern, Mr. Spriggot.”
Both men nodded, and then Edward escorted them from the building, leaving Max feeling raw after his encounter with Essie and speaking about the man who had nearly destroyed him.
Rubbing a hand down his side, he emptied his thoughts of Rutley. The man was dead; he’d seen to it personally. Max would not allow him to inflict any more pain on him, even if it was in his thoughts.
Rubbing his side, he eased the ache from the bullet that could have taken his life. Death had never worried Max overly much. If it came before his hair turned gray, again it would not concern him. He had worked hard in his life to rise to the power and wealth he now had, but he had formed few connections along the way that would weep or mourn his loss.
“I don’t even know what that means? How can you just decide not to feel things?” He remembered Essie’s words.
Easily, Max thought. Feeling things had only ever caused him pain.
“Work,” he muttered. Work would ease his thoughts and calm him, as it always did.
Max worked steadily though the day, only stopping when Edward appeared in his doorway.
“You have the ball this evening, so it is time you left, as it will soon be too dark to ride home.”
“I can ride in the dark.”
“Not when someone wants you dead.”
Max sighed. They had gone over this many times.
“I am not changing my life because of one stray bullet, Edward.”
“That could have killed you.”
“I don’t want to go to the ball.” He decided on a change of subject, as they had not agreed the previous five times they had discussed this matter. Max doubted that had changed.
“I understand that, Max, but it is good for you to do so. Lord Wynburg has given you a great honor by inviting you, as you very well know. It would be rude not to attend, and also bad for business.”
“Then you go,” Max said, getting to his feet. “You’ll be better at it than I. You enjoy all that foolish social chatter and false smiling.”
“Charming.”
“You know what I mean.” Max shrugged into his coat. “People like you.”
Edward was now leaning on the door, resting his hip, which told Max again that he had been overdoing things.
“They’d like you if you let them.”
Max snorted.
“Perhaps your Miss Sinclair will be there.”
The thought was far more appealing than it should be.
“She is not my anything.”
“Well, I did some investigating on Lord Wynburg as you asked, and his nephew is Lord Sinclair. He also has two other nephews and four nieces, one of whom is married to a duke. No doubt the same duchess who was in this very warehouse today.”
Christ.
“So it is likely that she will be at her uncle’s ball.”
“I still have no wish to attend,” Max lied. He grabbed his hat and slapped it on his head. “Now, good evening, Edward. Please leave directly, as I can see your leg is causing you discomfort and I have no wish for you to take yet another day off tomorrow.”
“I’ve never taken a bloody day off!”
Max smiled as he made his way down the stairs. Annoying Edward always made him feel better.
Would Essie be there? Her uncle was the rare breed of nobleman who embraced change and those that came with it. He accepted merchants and nobility into his house, as was evidenced by Max’s invitation to his ball.
Would she be there?
The journey to the hotel was not a great one, and after stabling his mount he walked to the building and climbed the impressive steps to where awaited an equally impressive entranceway.
“Good evening, Mr. Huntington.”
“Good evening.” Max passed the reception and made for the stairs. Reaching his rooms, he found his valet had laid out his evening clothes.
“Good evening, Max, you are late.”
“Good evening, Phillip, and I had work to do.”
“Your carriage will be arriving in twenty minutes.”
“I do not need a great deal of time to ready myself, as you very well know.”
Phillip, like Edward, had been with Max for many years. He had collected him, also like Edward, on his travels, and he had stayed with Max since. Valet was his official position, but he was so much more. Unlike Max, he’d been raised in an affluent household, and when he reached the age of ten his life had changed for the worse.
“Your day was fruitful?” Max asked his friend when he was soaking, however briefly, in his tub.
“Sylvie told me she thought you were the most handsome of the guests staying here at the moment.”
“Sylvie being?”
“One of the maids. Apparently, they run a poll on the matter weekly.”
“What’s the prize?”
“As to that I’m unsure, but I did offer myself, and she said she would give it some consideration.”
Phillip was short and round, with straight gray hair. His smile could make a woman sigh from a hundred feet, and he could talk his way out of any situation and under any woman’s skirts.
“Your generosity knows no bounds, Phillip.”
His valet smiled, then handed Max a drying cloth as he stepped from the tub.
“Sylvie also said that you should be married. A man like you should never be alone.”
Max thought about Essie. She would not be a comfortable wife; not that he ever planned to marry, or that she would have him if he did. She was a nobleman’s daughter, and deserved to marry a man of her standing. The thought of her with another man made him want to strike at something, but as he had no claim to her, her marrying another was inevitable, even if she believed otherwise.
You will marry, Essex Sinclair; no man could resist you.
“You marry first, and test the waters, and I shall see how it works, and follow,” Max drawled, making his friend snort.
He dressed, and Phillip fussed until he was happy with how Max looked.
“Sylvie will swoon if she sees you.”
“Something to aspire to, I am sure.”
Max shrugged into his overcoat, nodded to his valet, and
then left the hotel. He missed his own house. There, he could hide away in his study and read; here he did not have that luxury.
When the carriage stopped, he stepped down and told his driver to come back in a few hours. He would not be staying late. Max never really felt comfortable around noblemen, as he was sure they did not around him.
The house was as it should be for the man who lived within it. Elegant, large, and grand, and he wondered if she was inside already. He walked through the open door and was greeted by the butler, and he felt his tension rise. She was here, he could feel it. Which should be enough to have Max turn and leave.
“My name is Mr. Huntington,” he said instead.
“Please come this way, Mr. Huntington.”
He removed his hat and followed the butler up a grand staircase. Max rarely wore gloves; just another thing to set him apart from noblemen. He found them restrictive and often too small for his large hands. Tonight was no different, which would surely turn up the noses of the nobility present.
He let his eyes wander as he followed the butler. The paintings and trappings of years of wealth and title were everywhere. He thought it must be nice to have such an illustrious line of ancestors at your back, who had handed you your power and wealth. Unlike Max, who had worked his fingers to the bone to receive his.
He heard the hum of voices as he approached a door.
“Mr. Huntington,” the butler called, and he entered the room filled with guests. There were hundreds of them, all talking and laughing. Primped and pampered, the woman draped in jewels and fine dresses, the men in evening clothes. The people closest turned to look at him, and then a man disengaged himself to walk forward. Max let his eyes circle the group Lord Wynburg had left, and found her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Essie stood with her family as the other guests arrived at their aunt and uncle’s ball.
“You know, of course, that aunt has great hopes for both you and me this season. She told me we were going to be a sensation, and I… well, I already create a stir wherever I go, but she believes my freedom is coming to an end, and some woman will drop me to my knees.”
“That sounds painful,” Essie said.
“And I have no wish to hurt her, but you know my feelings on the matter, sister.”
Like Dev and James, Cam looked his usual immaculate, handsome self. Tall men, they carried clothes well and had an assurance about them that made woman look.
“I told her that I have no wish to wed for at least five years, possibly more.”
“And I never wish to wed,” Essie said.
“Never is a long time,” Eden said. Dressed in ivory silk, she looked stunning. Her hair was pinned into a mass of curls and decorated with diamonds.
“As this conversation has absolutely nothing to do with you, you can stay out of it.”
Eden merely smiled at Cam’s words, and moved closer to Essie.
“I think you have just not met the right man… or maybe you have,” Eden whispered in Essie’s ear.
“What are you two whispering about?”
“You look wonderful, Lilly,” Essie said, hoping to deter her sister-in-law. “Like Eden, you are positively glowing.”
Lilly was beautiful in emerald velvet with a matching band in her hair. She had changed a great deal since marrying Dev. Both of them had, actually, Essie thought, looking at her eldest brother, who was staring at his wife with that special look couples in love often shared. Or at least the three couples she knew did. Her aunt and uncle, and the marriages of her siblings.
“Dear Lord, what is that odor?” Cam looked round him, sniffing loudly. “Christ, it’s that bloody Kippley again. He’s bathed in a bottle of scent.”
“You should see the color of Lady Griffin’s dress,” Dev drawled, joining the conversation. “It is something my wife would once have been very proud to own.”
They all laughed, as Lilly had once worn hideous clothes to deter suitors. Of course that had not worked for Dev, as he had seen through them eventually.
“I overheard the Earl of Stathern telling his son to behave, before entering the ballroom. It seems, he overindulged at the Griffin musicale, and was not found until the following morning—under a table and covered in the previous night’s overindulgence.”
Having heightened senses meant her siblings saw, heard, and smelled a great deal, and they only shared those things with each other. Never did they let anyone else hear their conversations—except James, who was the only one among them who did not have heightened senses.
“Well now, this is interesting.” Eden’s words made Essie follow her sister’s gaze. Dear God, suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Max was here, and he looked ridiculously handsome in his evening clothes. So much larger than those around him, he should look out of place; instead he appeared at ease in the ballroom crowded with people.
“What is interesting?” Cam demanded.
“That Mr. Huntington is here.”
There were rare times in Essie’s life when she wished to be an only child. For instance, when there was only one portion of apple-and-plum pudding left, and she was not quick enough to secure a second helping… and now.
Max was here, and today he’d kissed her again.
“Is he? Where? Uncle has told me about him. Apparently he has a remarkable head for making money, and is involved in many innovative enterprises,” Cam added.
“Who is innovative?” Devon said.
“Mr. Huntington.” Eden smiled at Essie. “He is here.”
“I’d like to meet him.” James joined the conversation. “Supposedly he has several steam-powered mills up and running now. Your uncle said he’s a great man to invest with.”
Max was talking with her aunt and uncle, a polite smile on his face as he listened. He wore a black jacket and white evening trousers. His waistcoat was black with ruby stripes, and like today, the clothes suited his tall, muscular body. His hair was still a little too long, and slightly untamed. Not that she cared. He could wear a flour sack and it would not matter, she reminded herself. Look away, for pity’s sake!
“Essie knows Mr. Huntington.”
Glaring at Eden, Essie prepared for the questions that would follow.
“How do you know him?” Dev was first.
Essie had thought about how to answer this after seeing Max today, and dealing with the possibility of maybe doing so again in the future when she was with her family. She decided on honesty… for the most part.
“Cam has met him also,” she said.
Cam dragged his eyes from the nearest pretty woman. “No, I haven’t.”
“He was shot, and you helped me carry him in to Oak’s Knoll,” Essie said, proud of how calm she sounded.
“What! I don’t remember you telling me about anyone being shot at Oak’s Knoll!” Dev thundered. Eyebrows now lowered, as he glared at his siblings.
“That was Mr. Huntington?” Cam looked around him once more, and Essie knew he was searching for Max. “Good Lord.” His eyes then came back to Essie, and she knew that he also realized that Mr. Huntington was the Max who had made her cry. She gave him a look that she hoped he interpreted to mean, “say nothing more or I shall make you pay for it later.”
“He was not shot at Oak’s Knoll, Dev, but found his way there, and I tended him.”
“There is more to this than simply a chance meeting and you tending him, Essex, and I want the entire story… now.”
“I have nothing further to add. Only that he was wounded, and then he left. End of story.”
“There by the door,” Cam said. “I’d recognize that big brute anywhere. He’s as heavy to carry as he looks. What I didn’t realize was that we knew his last name,” he added, shooting Essie a look that suggested he wanted to know why she had left that out.
The eyes of her family members then turned as one toward the door, where her aunt and uncle were still conversing with Max.
“We encountered him today, in one of his warehouses.” Eden ent
ered the conversation once more, looking extremely happy that she knew something her brothers did not. “Essie was not aware he would be there, and he of course was surprised and pleased to see the woman who saved his life.”
As Essie had told her sister very little about how she knew Max, Eden was having a wonderful time ad-libbing, and there was nothing she could do to stop her, as the truth would never be aired.
“Indeed, he was quite effusive in his praise for our sister— Ouch!”
“Oh sorry, dear, did I stand on your foot?” Essie’s smile was more a snarl. Eden just looked smug.
“You went to a warehouse?” Dev and James said in unison.
“It was a clean warehouse, and we were in no danger, my love.” Eden patted her husband’s arm. “It had supplies that Essie needed, and as it turned out, it was owned by Mr. Huntington. Essie then looked after one of the children working there. She was wonderful.”
“Yes, thank you, Eden,” Essie said, with a calm she was far from feeling.
“She saved this young boy’s life, and Mr. Huntington was eternally grateful.”
“It matters not if it was clean,” James said. “What matters is that you went there with only Essie. Furthermore, I know nothing of this Huntington.”
“And Bids.”
“Pardon?” James snapped.
“Bids drove us.” Eden smiled at her husband.
“And my driver makes three,” Dev muttered. “Well, as you are both standing here, obviously nothing heinous befell you.”
“I will have more to say about this later,” James whispered to his wife, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You have no idea how good it was to hand her over to you. I now only have three sisters to worry over,” Dev added.
“And your brothers are of course paragons,” Essie said, smiling sweetly through her teeth.
“We need to thank Huntington, actually,” Cam said to Dev, but Essie heard and tensed, as she knew what was coming.
“Why?”
“Brunt called, and yelled at Essie after she tended his wife. The Hemples told me he raised a hand to strike her for interfering, and Huntington intervened. Brunt also called her a witch.”
“He did what!” Dev thundered. Eden winced and stuck her fingers in her ears, forcing her earplugs deeper. Several of the nearby guests turned to see who had made the noise.
